


Twisted Needs

by morganaDW (morgana07)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Bottom Sam, Dark Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Violence, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash, Spoilers, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Top Dean, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morganaDW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Sam wakes up recalling the attack by a man from Dean’s past only to find his situation is actually much worse now than it was as he discovers just how very different his brother has been turned. He also discovers that the mark hasn’t just twisted Dean’s actions or thoughts but also his needs. *Hurt!Sam & very dark/uncaring/demon!Dean* Spoilers for Season 10! See below.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted Needs

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Okay, read carefully before continuing. This one gets a full gauntlet of warnings. I’ll warn for language, violence thought a lot of it’s mostly descriptive or mentioned. I’ll also toss trigger warnings on for non-con events. This is an explicit story and should not be read if certain topics disturb you. See my author note for more.
> 
> Tags/Spoilers: While I don’t tag this type of story it is set after the first episode of Season 10. It does contain some obvious spoilers so be aware of that.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything but the plot and the mind that creates it.
> 
> Beta’d By: Jenjoremy (Thank you!)
> 
> Author Note: So as most readers might have noticed I haven’t been doing a lot of gen or Wincest SPN pieces. I’ve been locked on J2 stuff, which I am still writing. I’m going to try to write it all depending on the plot the muse picks at the time. This is my first Wincest piece in a long time and a friend of mine, JaniceC678, wanted some dark demon!Dean and didn’t care if it was non or dub-con so this is what the muse chose.

**Twisted Needs**

Agonizing pain searing through his head and body woke Sam Winchester up, and he found himself in an even worse situation than the one he’d passed out in.

The hunter’s memory was spotty at best and what he did remember he could do without, but as his blurry vision cleared, he began to wonder if maybe he hadn’t woken up, if maybe he was trapped in some sort of nightmare.

He recalled his worn out junk of a car dying in the middle of nowhere. He recalled getting jumped by Cole when the young man decided to use him as bait for Sam’s older brother. He recalled the pain of the other man’s well thought out and skilled torture scheme. Sam had accepted the fact that he would probably end up dead because he knew Dean would not be coming for him with the way his brother was now.

Vision clearing, Sam realized he was wrong. Dean had come and now Sam was wishing he hadn’t. He was also wishing he’d stayed unconscious.

He could see that he wasn’t in the warehouse that Cole had taken him to. The room looked like any cheap motel room that he and Dean would have rented when on the road. It had the same two queen beds, lousy wallpaper, cheap TV and sour smells but there was something else about this room that Sam couldn’t place yet that bothered him.

“I know you’re awake, Sammy. I can practically see that big brain working out what’s happening.” Dean Winchester’s voice was harder, colder than even Sam’s worst nightmares when he spoke. “Open your eyes.”

Sam didn’t want to but he found he really couldn’t fight the urge, feeling sick as it hit him why that was. “Where’s…Cole?” he asked though gritted teeth, voice ragged from being dry and from screaming in pain earlier. “You kill him?”

“The rookie you let yourself get grabbed by?” Dean snorted, waving a hand almost in dismissal. “No, I left him alive. I’ll play cat and mouse with him later if the beating I gave him doesn’t teach him to back off and not touch my toys.”

Sam tensed at the tone as well as the words. “Is that what I am to you now?” he asked, a sick ball forming in his gut. “A toy or a mouse?”

“Oh, baby boy, you are so much more right now.” Dean’s lips curved into a slow smile that left nothing to Sam’s fuzzy imagination as to what his brother was thinking or planning. “You’re going to be so much more than a toy or a mouse…and what I plan to do to you ain’t got nothing to do with playing.”

“No…no!” Sam tried to jerk away from the hand sliding over his chest and moving toward his belt. “Dean…you don’t want to…this isn’t you!”

“Actually Moose, that’s where you’re wrong. This is more of Squirrel than I think I was ready to see or know about.”

The sudden voice that spoke from off to the side had Sam’s temper nearly sparking past the sick terror of what seemed to be happening. “Crowley,” he gritted, straining only to feel an invisible weight pinning him down to the bed…the bed farthest from the door. “Let him go, damn you! Whatever you did to my brother, let it go!”

Stepping into Sam’s line of sight, the King of Hell gazed between the brothers before offering a dry, almost wry, smile while shaking his head. “I didn’t do anything to him, Moose.” He nodded to the rugged-faced former hunter who was practically vibrating. “Well…I might’ve done a tiny thing this time, but that was just to try to make the sod see the brilliance of my plan of us ruling Hell. I actually wasn’t expecting this. I actually had no bloody clue until this very moment what Dean’s deepest and darkest desire was.”

“Shut up,” Dean growled, green eyes glittering darkly but not turning black as he leaned down closer to Sam’s face, fingers wrapping in long dark hair to jerk his brother’s head back to him. “I said you help me claim what I want and I’ll do the odd job for you when I feel like it.” He stared at the King of Hell coldly. “I’m no one’s errand boy, Crowley. You help me and I’ll…help you sometime.”

“It seems like you have Moose pretty well handled if you ask me,” Crowley shot back, frowning as a crackle of power shot around him.

“I can’t hold him down and keep him from fighting too much and still play with him like I want, so that’s on you.” Dean met and held wide eyes as he let his lips hover close to Sam’s ear, feeling his brother’s body trying to fight but it was held immobile at the moment. “The thing with me like this is I don’t care anymore about crap like I did. I’ve buried this need, this want, since I was sixteen and you turned from a chubby gawky little kid to…let’s just say you finally grew into those arms and legs. I wanted to fuck you so damn bad that I began throwing myself at every girl I saw.”

Sam felt his brain trying to shut down. He couldn’t accept this as the truth. He would not believe the words pouring out of his brother’s mouth were true. He also wouldn’t let his own little nibbles of guilt worm their way up either because no matter what, this was not the Dean he grew up with, the brother who’d raised him and the one Sam…

“No!” He jerked his face away only to scream as pain went through his injured shoulder. “You’re lying! Demons lie! You are not my brother! I won’t let you…mmmhm!”

Hard lips suddenly crashed down on his own to stop his words. Sam’s brain froze in a combination of emotions as he realized what was happening. He was frozen for a moment until the feel of a tongue pushing into his mouth snapped him back and Sam’s first instinct was to fight, terror growing as he was pushed down on the bed by invisible hands.

“Except I’m so far from what you think I am, little brother.” Dean licked over Sam’s lips, hands free to roam and touch while power held his brother captive. “What’s inside me is all me, just without all the guilt and crap that’s been eating me up inside. I’m through not taking what I want…and what I want is you, Sammy.”

Sam knew he was in a bad situation. With his right arm trapped in a sling due to his injured shoulder, he wouldn’t have the strength to fight back or free himself even if cold power wasn’t forcing his body down on the bed as rough hands began to tear his clothes loose.

“Dean, stop! You don’t want to do this!” Sam couldn’t fight back; he couldn’t move unless the power let him, but he still had his voice and would try to get through to his brother until that was taken away from him as well. “Please…this…this isn’t you! You wouldn’t want to do this. We’re…”

“Brothers?” Dean lifted his eyes with a cold smile, fingers flicking over Sam’s belt to pull it off. “Did you miss the part where I said I’ve wanted this ass since you were 13? I let you go off to Stanford because if I hadn’t, I would’ve fucked you in the back of the Impala the first chance I got Dad the hell away from us.

“I’ve done the noble thing, Sam. I’ve given myself all the lectures and speeches, told myself these feelings weren’t right. That wanting to fuck my brother or to feel that mouth on my cock wasn’t right…so I know all the words…I also know you ain’t totally innocent, Sammy.” He flipped the snap to open the denim, beginning to slowly unzip the fly while watching the panic grow in wide hazel eyes. “Your soulless side? Yeah, you remember him cause I sure as hell do. He gave me a peek one night into a few little secrets that you’ve been keeping from me.”

Sam’s eyes snapped up and his already twisting gut went to hard knots as he heard this. “No…he…I…” He swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to throw up as he took in what this might mean. “Did he…you never said anything happened or…”

“I was still in the protective/denial stage of things,” Dean returned as he gave a quick pull to shed both jeans and underwear as he’d already dealt with the boots. “He jumped me one night and revealed a whole lotta stuff about you…your thoughts and a few secret desires that I had no clue you had. Now tell me he lied cause we both know that soulless asshole told it straight.”

“Oh, this is better than the bloody soaps!” Crowley pulled a chair closer to the bed to sit down, taking the scene in with interest. “I love being privy to all this juicy gossip about my two favorite denim clad nightmares. How much of this did the featherheads know by the way?”

Dean’s eyes flashed black as he shot a hard glare to the King of Hell and the First Blade slid into his hand. “I can use this on you just as easily as I can on him so shut your goddamn mouth, Crowley,” he growled dangerously. “You’re still here because I want to be sure Sammy keeps being a good boy.”

“Fuck you,” Sam ground out, still straining against the power holding him. He shot a hateful look over at Crowley. “I…will kill you for this.”

“I’m not doing anything here, Moose,” Crowley defended his position. He was well aware that the hunter would try to carry out the threat. He also wasn’t sure he’d try to stop him given that this deal with Dean had gone way more off center than he’d expected. “Squirrel is the one with some serious issues going on. I’m just a handy observer of what I’d thought were only demonic whispers.” He eyed Dean as the man finished stripping his brother of his shirts, leaving him naked except for the sling he still wore. “Alastair knew about this secret kink you had for wanting Sam, didn’t he? That was the damn last piece of leverage the sod needed to get to you down there.”

The demon shot to his feet in a sudden burst of excitement. “I’ll be a bloody monkey’s uncle. That’s what got you to turn after 30 years? That’s what caused you to turn into his prize pupil?” He stared at the tensing ex-hunter. “He figured out you wanted to fuck Moose?”

“No, he said he would,” Dean replied tightly but then left both Sam and Crowley to take what they would from the comment as he made a slow show of shedding his own clothes. “You can stay or you can leave but if you stay, you keep your hands off of him except to keep him from fighting more than I want him to.”

“Dean…please…don’t do…” Sam was quickly realizing that his brother wasn’t going to listen to his pleas. In fact if anything, they would probably turn him on more than he clearly already was, so begging was out. He chose to try something else because being raped was one thing, but having it happen in front of Crowley was something Sam didn’t think he could stomach. “Alone!”

“Come again?” Dean had been going through a small bag by the bed when he looked up curiously to see the panic but also the slight start of acceptance in his brother’s eyes. “I’ll probably gag you, so if you want to say anything you’d better do it fast before I lose interest, Sam.”

Sam’s gaze shot over to the smirking demon and back to Dean. “I…I’ll try not to fight you but…if you’re going to do this …please…don’t do it with him here.”

“What if I want an audience while I fuck this hot ass, Sammy?” Dean taunted mockingly, dropping his shirt on the floor but he did let his fingers hover over his jeans. “What if I want Crowley here to watch me do every little thing I’ve ever dreamed of doing in my darkest fantasies? Maybe just because you don’t want him here, I’ll let him stay. Maybe I’ll even let him play with you a little or…”

“Dean,” Crowley spoke in an almost warning voice as if trying to rein in the violence he could almost see building. “I can still add enough power to keep your boy from being a bad Moose while I go down to the bar and have a few. You boys play. I’ll be back.” He stepped closer to give a patronizing pat to Sam’s head before bending closer and saying something that made Sam jerk. “Ta-ta for now boys.”

Dean scowled as the cocky demon strolled out of the room. “Looks like maybe the so-called King might be a little squeamish. Maybe he’s still got a little too much human blood in him. I thought he’d jump at a shot at you given all those little hidden innuendo he likes to throw at us.” He flipped the snap on his jeans and made sure wide eyes were on him. “Happy now that we’re alone?”

“I’d be…happier if you wouldn’t do this.” Sam cried out as his injured arm was suddenly freed from the sling. “Dean! Wait…mmhm!” A hard hand clamping down over his mouth cut the plea off.

“Shhh,” Dean whispered against Sam’s ear, tongue slipping out to lick over the shell then down a trembling jaw. “No more talking. It won’t change what I’m about to do to you. It won’t change that you’re going to be a good boy and maybe I’ll decide to keep you around for more fun. First though…I’m gonna move my hand and if you say one word I’ll cut your throat enough to sever your vocal cords but leave you alive. Nod if you understand me.”

Sam understood and blinked back tears as he nodded. He was sick to his stomach and trying to numb his mind to what was happening. When the hand moved he fought the urge to freak out when Dean snapped his fingers and a ball gag appeared in his hand.

“Uh-uh, no talking.” Dean looked at the gag a second before running his thumb over Sam’s lips, fingers digging in tight enough to bruise soft skin. “I have lots of toys that I’ve picked up lately…but a couple I picked up just for you, baby boy,” he teased, forcing his brother’s lips to part so he could shove the gag in before buckling it tightly behind his head. “This is one thing. Ready to see what else I have for you before we play?”

If toys were the worst that Dean’s demonic brain could come up with to hurt him then Sam thought for a brief second that he might survive this nightmare…until he saw what else was dumped on the bed. He had to remind him that he’d choke himself if he puked now.

Dean wasted no time in applying his other toys and accessories, each with a flourish or cruel mocking taunt. As Sam’s brother, as the one who knew most if not all of his little brother’s fears or phobias, then Dean knew what to use to get the most shock value or humiliation and how to hurt Sam even without the cruel fists that soon left Sam’s face a bloodied, bruised mask.

The collar that had been the last thing to go on matched the heavy leather studded cuffs that wrapped Sam’s wrists and ankles. The collar was thicker though with additional D-hooks to allow it to be hooked at other angles which Dean took great pleasure in trying out.

The former hunter used both his power and his body to pin Sam’s long legs down while he cruelly showed his wide, glassy-eyed brother the thin metal rod with a ball on one end before he inserted it dry into Sam’s cock, clearly enjoying the muffled sounds coming from behind the ballgag.

“A few years ago I actually looked into some of this stuff so I learned a few things. I also looked up various tools to make it painful for you and enjoyable for me. Well, actually, the man I was looked into making it enjoyable for both of us but…that’s not the man you’ve got now. The new me likes to see you try to squirm and hear you scream, Sam. How’s the sound feel? How’s it feel now?” he asked after tapping the ball end that stuck out from the tip of Sam’s cock with another piece of metal. “Fuck, you sound so hot like that.”

Sam was fighting the pain of having something shoved inside his cock dry but when the sound was hit and the whole thing vibrated, he had no chance to muffle the scream that escaped past the gag.

He knew the use of sounds. He’d looked into a few things too while soulless. He knew that if used correctly, sounds could be used for pleasure but plainly that was not in the cards since Dean had also forced a huge plastic dildo up in his unstretched, unprepped ass that was vibrating with every hit of the remote on the bed or Dean’s power.

Sam was sure he kept passing out because he kept coming to with strong fingers in his hair, jerking his head back between where his arms had been stretched above him; hooked to chains on the headboard that attached to his collar and the cuffs on his wrists.

“You’re tougher than this, Sam,” Dean snapped, voice deep, harsh, cold; he slapped his brother’s face until blurry eyes managed to focus on his. “You keep those eyes on me or I’ll make you keep them open. I want you to watch what’s coming next.”

The abuse, torment, and teasing seemed to go on for days, but the logical part of Sam knew it was just a day at the most. His balls and cock were trapped in a metal contraption that worked with the sound that Dean would occasionally hit to send vibrations shooting up his cock.

His skin, especially on his chest, was marked with cuts from the First Blade. Every cut was excruciatingly painful and Sam half waited for the blade to sink into his chest, but Dean merely cut patterns into his skin. He seemed to take more time as he moved the bone blade over Sam’s stomach.

“Do you want to know what all this is that I’ve done, Sam?” Dean had been laying over him, letting his fully hard and dripping cock rub over Sam’s body while his mouth, teeth and tongue licked, raked and bit a path over his brother’s sweat drenched, bloody body. “Why I took so long on this last part? Watch this and I’ll show you.”

Dean leaned back so his legs were straddling where he’s spread Sam’s out on the bed, power and chains holding him prisoner. He pulled the First Blade across his palm to draw blood, letting Sam see the blood begin to drip down his palm before pressing it firmly over the raw bloody wound he’d just carved into his younger brother’s flesh. “See?”

At first all Sam felt was pain from having open wounds touched. Then he suddenly felt something else, a slow burn that made his body try to arch up under power and weight, voice screaming in agony behind the gag while dark visions that told him what this was flashed in front of his eyes.

“Mine,” Dean growled against his ear, teeth biting down on the earlobe to pull it not gently as he watched realization set in. “Hell taught me a lot. Including plenty of blood spells and that one? The one that I just scrawled into your flesh and sealed with my blood? It’s just assured me that you will never belong to another person, man or woman. You are mine. I own this ass and now I’m going to show you just how much.”

Sam’s mind was numb, in shock and sick from what was happening. He was still getting over the burning fire of having just been made into some sort of slave to his brother’s sick will when his shoulder suddenly seared as he was jerked over to land on his stomach, bloody raw wounds screaming in pain.

Even if the power wasn’t still binding him, keeping him frozen except for when Dean demanded movement, the heavy chains were quickly moved to clamp the cuffs on his wrists down to the ones on his ankles; stretching his injured shoulder even more painfully while the collar was then hooked with two chains to keep his head still as something like a brace was shoved under it so he couldn’t even bury it in the foul smelling covers of the bed.

“You didn’t seem to like it when I chained you in the shower earlier to see just how much water you could hold so I figure I’ll cut you a break this one time and fuck you on the bed.” Dean leaned his full weight down on the bloody mess of Sam’s back, pressing his shoulders down just to cause more pain. “Sound so good when you moan like that, little brother. Did I ever admit that the best thing I liked while working with Alastair was hearing the souls I tortured scream? Well, I did. I loved it then and I still love it now.” He bit down hard on Sam’s shoulder, drawing blood and a weak muffled cry.

The tears on Sam’s face had long since dried up as he struggled weakly against the greater strength, the cruel hands that raped him, tortured him with a voice that still sounded like the brother he’d grown up with. A piece of Sam briefly thought, hoped, that sometime during this assault Dean, his Dean, would come back, but as the vibrating dildo was yanked out swiftly and Dean replaced it with his own huge, thick, dripping cock with a grunt of satisfaction, Sam knew that wasn’t happening.

The first time Dean took him had been shortly after he’d gotten the collar, cuffs and sound on him. With only a slow smile of lust, Sam had been forced to look into deep green eyes that flashed black on and off and watched as Dean shoved his cock past tight muscles that tore with every hard thrust until he was finally fully sheathed inside tight heat that was slick with blood.

“Hmm, just as tight as I always knew you’d be,” Dean groaned, sucking marks on Sam’s throat under the collar while rolling an abused nipple around in his fingertips. “Never had anything in this ass have you? Certainly nothing but a toy or maybe your fingers. Nothing like what’s in it now.”

In truth, Sam was sure he’d lost count of the times he’d been raped that night or however long it had been. Now he felt the pull of darkness, his body losing enough blood and in shock bad enough that not even Dean’s demonic power could keep him conscious.

Not that Dean by then needed a conscious Sam. He mainly just needed a warm body to fuck, to work out the need and desire for more blood and violence. His hips pumped tirelessly even as he felt Sam’s body go limp again, saw the white as his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Sam, when will you learn to listen to me?” Dean’s one hand grabbed a handful of hair to pull back Sam’s head while his other one held the First Blade that he hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed, blade just touching soft bruised skin.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Crowley’s voice demanded from the door where he’d just entered to see the end of the brutal encounter.

“Whatever the hell I want,” Dean returned darkly, eyes glistening black but his hand seemed to shake as if unsure of his actual motivations.

“Oh, fine. Go through all this trouble to brand the Moose, to make sure he’s yours for whatever the hell you have planned and now you’re just going to slit his throat?” Crowley scoffed, taking in the badly injured, shallow breathing hunter. “He’s of more use to us alive.”

Dean looked over, hips giving a final thrust with a long groan, feeling himself come again. “There is no us, Crowley,” he corrected, letting his climax slow before pulling out without a care to the battered young man he dropped to the bed, leaving Sam tied like he was while walking naked to clean off. “There is me and what I will do, when I will do it and to who. Remember that.” He pulled his jeans back on, sitting on the bed to tie his boots but not looking at the unconscious bleeding hunter. “Leave him here like this. Someone will find him and if I want him again, I’ll find him wherever he is thanks to the blood spell I used.”

“The…blood…” Crowley stared at what he’d once thought was a huge pain in his ass until he considered this change. “You bound him to you? Who the bloody hell taught you…oh…bollocks.”

“I could so easily use these powers you were so interested in controlling to topple your little throne, Crowley.” Dean stood up but paused to lean over his brother’s prone form to stare at Sam’s bloodied, pale face. He whispered something too low for the demon to hear before grabbing for his duffle. “Screw with me, piss me off and see how fast I show you just what this mark and the blade have made me.”

The King of Hell stared as the door shut on Dean’s back before eyeing Sam’s limp, hurt form to blow out a breath. “Bollocks,” he muttered, slumping in a chair to consider his options and to wait.

It wasn’t very long until the hotel room door was kicked open to allow a very pissed off former soldier with revenge on his mind to enter, gun drawn and a snarl on his face. The snarl turned to shock as he took in the tied up, naked, bloodied unconscious hunter on the disheveled bed.

“What the…” Cole had been pissed off before, but after confronting Dean Winchester, after getting his ass handed to him by whatever the hell the man was right then and waking up alive from the beating, he was more determined than ever to get his pound of flesh.

He’d put his military training to its best use as he tracked Winchester to a motel three towns away. He had plans to deal with Dean and considered leaving the younger Winchester out of it. When he’d kicked in the door, he’d been expecting a lot, but what he found was not anywhere close to it.

“Hello, Joe.” The casually accented voice that spoke from the side of the room had the former Marine whirling to aim and fire his silenced pistol on instinct, only to frown when the short guy with thinning black hair and a scruff of beard merely sighed and brushed at his bullet soiled suit. “Really? Bullets against the King of Hell? Clearly not your normal hunter then.”

“Who the hell are you?” Cole demanded, aiming the weapon steadily while instinctively putting himself between the man and an unconscious Sam. “What the hell happened to him? Where’s his brother?”

Crowley eyed the man critically. He was shorter than Moose’s 6’4”, probably closer to Squirrel’s height of 6’. He was built stockier, could probably hold his own in a fair fight…but not with Dean like this. “Did the King of Hell label skip you, G.I. Joe? I am Crowley, King of Hell, leader to all demons and…you have a worse sense of humor than a Winchester it seems,” he sighed when another bullet hit him dead center to his chest. “Those won’t work, sunshine.”

“Fine.” Cole shoved the gun away since while he might be out of his league, he also knew not to waste the ammo. A low groan from the bed pulled his eyes back to it and he took a slow step backwards while reaching for a blade. “What happened to Sam and where the goddamn hell is his brother?” he demanded again, smelling things that made his stomach turn as he debated turning his back on whatever this Crowley was to see to Sam or if he should even bother.

“Ahh, that fine handiwork was the product of his very own loving, demented, currently dark-hearted older brother.” Crowley stayed where he was to see this new player on his board finally look away from him and kneel beside the bed to feel for a pulse before swearing harshly as more wounds were taken in and chains began to be undone. “The very older brother that you have it in your head to hunt down. Take a good look at what Dean’s willing to do to his own flesh and blood and then ask yourself what he’d do to you if you get in his face, G.I. Joe.”

Cole shot a sour look over his shoulder. “G.I. Joe?” he asked with a pinched look of disgust. “I was in the Marines, not the Army.” He recalled Sam’s injured arm and felt his stomach clench at the pain the young man had to have been put through even before he was finally able to get Sam turned to his side to take in the massive number of wounds on his stomach and back. “Why…what did he do to him? Why would he do this?”

“Because they are massively screwed up boys with too many co-dependent issues that Dean, in his current state of mind, decided to act on in a much more violent way than I was expecting.” Crowley took a card out of his pocket to wave it. “There’s a number on this. Call it once you get him someplace safe…unless you’re not the hero you’re so badly trying to say you’re not. Tell the grace weakening featherhead that answers who you are and that you have Sam with you. Tell Castiel that Dean’s gone cuckoo for cocoa puffs to put it mildly and all my brilliant schemes to use him have gone off the rails.

“Tell him I said there’s just so much I can do to keep Dean from going further off the deep end than this proves he is, but there is still a shot to bring him down…if he or you can get Sam out of the shell this might’ve put him in because something Dean did actually might have helped.” The demon knew there was more but he also didn’t want to make it too easy for the mortals or angel. “Trust me, soldier boy. You can’t take Dean on like he is right now.”

Crowley crossed the room to pause by the bed to see the way the knife shifted toward him while a hand touched Sam’s shivering shoulder as if to shield. He moved a hand to heal a few of the more serious wounds that could kill his favorite Moose before this mortal got his act together.

“You’ve picked a sorry time to confront Dean or to involve yourself with the Winchesters. People who help them tend to end up dead but…Sam needs someone to help him now. He needs someone with the same obstinate damn bloody hard head that all hunters tend to have. He needs someone to help him bring his brother back from the brink and it looks like someone chose you. Do that…and maybe when it’s all said and done I won’t feed you to my pet. Ta-ta, G.I. Joe.”

Before Cole could respond, the man was gone and he found himself left in the hotel room with a badly injured man that needed help after being hurt by someone that Cole already believed was a monster, but he had no clue how right he might’ve been until he realized the horrifying truth of Sam’s injuries.

“Sam?” He quickly freed Sam from the cuffs, throwing the collar across the room with a harsh curse of disgust, disgust that got worse as he took in the other wounds and knew just what had been done, if not the full scope of why yet.

This wasn’t what Cole had planned. He’d planned on revenge. He’d been planning to kill Dean Winchester for many years but this…what he found himself in now was slowly changing his plans.

Oh, he still planned to find and kill the bastard who’d turned his world upside down, but as he grabbed a blanket from the other bed to wrap around the in shock man, he supposed his inner self had already decided that he’d also find Dean Winchester to learn just what the hell was wrong with him that he’d do this to his own brother.

“I’ve got this,” he decided, pocketing the card with the number on it before struggling to get a still unconscious and already fevered Sam to his feet and out of the run down motel without attracting attention while wondering how he’d explain this one to his wife.

Sam could hear a voice but was still too far into his own pain and dreams to reach for what he heard. He could see his mother’s sad face as well as his father’s weathered face telling him what to do, but right then all he could think of was the darkness that had twisted his brother’s needs and how things might’ve been different.

**The End???**

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this one ended totally different than my normal happy ever after, schmoopy, heal all bad issues stories. This kind is rare for me and the muse and I (and my beta) usually fight over leaving Dean dark but it needed to work for this story. And yes, I left it opened that I can continue it to maybe cure the issues and give that happy ending down the road…this is me after all, lol. Thanks for reading.


End file.
